


Moira

by 100pureawesomeness



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Better Than Canon, Canon Rewrite, Canon-Typical Violence, Dean Winchester Deserves Better, I want to fight god but here, Isekai, John Winchester Being an Asshole, Other, POV Character of Color, Self-Indulgent, Self-Insert, but better than Dante, cause i'm gay, queer-ifying SPN, trauma bonding is a valid way to make friends
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-12-23
Updated: 2020-12-23
Packaged: 2021-03-11 01:07:39
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 13,894
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28226640
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/100pureawesomeness/pseuds/100pureawesomeness
Summary: 2020 is a BINGO board for the apocalypse and anything is game... Even isekai.
Relationships: TBD - Relationship
Comments: 3
Kudos: 6





	Moira

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Being isekai'd is honestly not the weirdest thing to happen to Lenu in 2020 but it sure is the last thing.
> 
> Meeting Dean Fucking Winchester was the weirdest thing to happen in 2004, though.

Reading another paper on the homosexual subtext of Dracula was getting to them- not in a fun way either, because they were supposed to be researching the historical context of vampires being associated with Transylvania/Wallacia- and being inside their apartment for the fourth day in a row was a little too much for their psyche. 

So they slammed their laptop shut and burst up from the table. 

“You okay there?” their roommate asked.

“Nope!” 

Their roommate nodded and they sighed heavily, looking around the room for any other option but finding none, knew what they had to do. 

“Cal, I'm heading out for a walk, I’ll be back soon,” they called out to their roommate, their best friend, the most important person in their life, the Bill to their Ted.

“Is that a good idea, Len?” Cal took a slurp of their spicy ramen, looking up at them from the couch, “It’s nasty out there,” another slurp, “and shitty.”

They shrugged, combing their hand through their hair. Their bangs were falling aside from their glasses like curtains. Too long. 

“Maybe, but it’s just for a bit. Twenty minutes max,” they glanced at the clock, “I’ll be back at like… 4:20,” they grinned.

Cal scoffed.

“Get out.”

“Alright, alright,” they shuffled out, making sure they had their phone, wallet, ipod, headphones and keys in their coat pocket, “See ya in a bit.”

They slipped on their combat boots, excellent at keeping them warm and dry on this rainy winter day.

Len opened the door and took a deep breath in. Smelled like rain and trees. The literal best. They should have put it on their christmas list. 

The wind rustled past them and they felt a chill. 

So maybe it was a sharper wind than expected but they pulled their coat tighter and continued on their walk anyway. 

God, the wind made life worse. 

Shit, their ankle was hurting. 

Deal with it Len, it’s only a short walk and you’re not a little bitch. 

They stared up at the sky, half wondering if God with a capital G hated them or if it was whatever deity was trying to communicate with them. 

Whatever. 

That was tabled until they could address it properly.

  
  


A sigh left them and they wondered if maybe what they feared most was what happened after death. 

Ahhhh.

All energy can neither be created nor destroyed; only transformed. 

Comforting. 

Lenu opened their eyes to see a dude walking toward them, with flat black hair in a shag cut and a complexion even paler than theirs, a sort of just barely olive. Definitely hadn’t seen the sun in a while. Which was fair, Washington led to a lot of Vitamin D deficiencies. And the cases of the SADs. Which shit, they haven’t been taking their vitamins have they? 

Fuck. Well, put that on the docket of things to do, Len. 

He walked closer and closer, and they noted the bastard wasn’t wearing a mask. Well, they weren't either because they liked to maintain twenty feet social distancing 

“Hey, dude, too close,” they called out and turned back to continue on their route but everything went black and they fell forward.

  
  


They blinked as they came back to themself, bracing their hands on the concrete wall.

They were… Still in Washington? Yeah, the air told them that much. But definitely more toward the coast. Was that the ocean or a bay… sand! That’s the fucking ocean Lenu. 

Shit.

They hit their ass, feeling through the thick wool coat. Phone, wallet.Their hands hit their thighs. Ipod, keys. Their hands hit their clavicle. Headphones were still on.

A win, they supposed. 

They pulled out their phone, seeing their location was Aberdeen. 

What the fuck.

They pulled out their wallet to check that they hadn’t been robbed and then they noticed their drivers licence.

Lenu Isidore Alveraz. 

Born… June 6… 1985?

“What the fuck?” 

Their phone rang out the Kim Possible text tone that they had set as the default.

_Good luck._

What the fuck.

That wasn’t helpful at all.

“Well, at least my licence has my name,” and they supposed that was a pretty big boone. 

They shrugged and pulled out their phone, blinking at the screen. 

The dead battery was unexpected, unwarranted and unwanted. 

Fucking hell. 

Now to find the library. 

  
  


They were able to get to the library after asking a local and finally check the paper.

Monday December 21… 2004.

Aw, fuck they were in deep shit weren’t they.

“Ma’am, are you okay?” An elderly librarian asked, white hair and cat eye glasses. She looked ancient. Which was saying a lot. They were usually pretty nice with their internal descriptions. But those wrinkles...

“No ma’am, just checkin’ the news. I’ve got some research coming up and just thought I’d see what's going on in the world before focusing,” and they didn’t even lie. Go Len. 

She nodded and let them be, going back to her sorting. 

They sighed, and checked things over, quickly realising nothing was worth noting and went over to the old ass computers. Computers they hadn’t seen in ages. Bulky and slow. Gross.

They opened up to Windows 95. 

Oh sweet mother of god. 

Well, thank god they had family friends with the operating system still, otherwise they’d be fifteen years out of practice. 

They opened up internet explorer (something they hadn’t touched in over four years and gave them flashbacks to a simpler time) and looked through the newspaper database.

Not much of anything other than some weird cattle mutilations, complaints about power lines and bad weather.

It be like that.

They looked through the weather reports, finding that it was unexplained phenomena and boi did that feel weird to read. 

It was probably nothing.

They clicked and clicked and suddenly they were looking at an obituary for an Avi Haddad, who looked eerily like Cal. Wack. 

They were not getting paid enough for this bullshit. 

Okay, Len, time to recount.

  1. They bumped into a dude and everything went black
  2. They opened their eyes in Aberdeen, a place they had never been to
  3. Their licence was technically all wrong
  4. It was 2004



So, with all of that, that left…

“Isekai.”

Motherfucker.

They took a deep breath in and exhaled slowly.

Alright, Len. What’s the checklist for Isekai?

Where am I?

Still the US, yeah?

“President of the United States…” Bush. “Dammit,” they rubbed their face, “Uh, Captain America?” Nope, still fictional. “Buffy?” they quickly ran through their childhood shows they could remember, finding nothing and almost a little disappointed. “Well, alternate timeline. But what’s different?” they mused.

Ahhhhh.

They got up and logged out, walking over to the desk, noticing that the same librarian was there. They could have sworn she had-

Nah. Probably a trick of the lights. 

“Hi, I was wondering if you have any books on quantum mechanics and also where the fiction section is?”

She looked at them, like they were the scum of the earth, “Physics would be in the 500’s and fiction is on the second floor. Adults to the left, children ”

“And the young adult section?” There were a few books that fit their bill in that demographic.

“To the right,” she droned. 

“Right, thanks,” they gave a smile, but it was probably more of a grimace. Their face was hurting enough that it probably was. 

Why were they like this again?

Oh that’s right. 

Trauma.

Ha, ha!

Yikes. 

They hissed to themself and quickly made their way upstairs, perusing the shelves to the right.

Start easy.

Alice in Wonderland… Wizard of Oz… Narnia!

“Carroll…” they looked through the shelves, and noted the illuminated copy was absolutely gorgeous. They picked it up. As a treat.

Now next would be…

“L Frank Baum.” Shit. They backtracked and looked at the B’s. Bam. 

They grabbed a simple copy, although they saw The Great Illustrated version and were sorely tempted, they elected one treat was enough. 

“Right-o...” they murmured to themself. 

Next would be…

“Inkheart,” they tapped their foot and hummed to themself, “Yeah, I’ll count it.” They added it to their stack and moseyed on until-

“Oh dang. Stardust.” That had super big isekai vibes. They plopped it on top.

“Noice.” They grinned. And noticed Coraline. 

Looked at the books in their arms.

Looked back.

“Fuck no.”

And wow, look at that.

The Lion, The Witch, and the Wardrobe.

They plopped it right on top and continued on, going through the alphabet and decong nothing else struck their fancy, moving toward the adults' side.

Which they were blanking on.

Come on Lenu, you know isekai. Think back to your senior project, it was only like, two years ago.

Ah…

Right! The OG Self Insert Wish Fulfillment Fanfiction .

“Dante’s Inferno!” they gave a little smirk to themself, for kicks. Self care.

Anyway.

“Dante… Shit what was his last name?” They pulled out their phone and was once more greeted with the low battery symbol. Objectively awful because it was something they’d never let happen before and they’re brain was not handling it well.

“Bum-mer,” they tsk-ed. 

Well, staring from the top it-

“Well, I’ll be damned,” superb luck, Lenu. Go you. 

Dante Alieghieri. 

Now… Outlander! That was originally from the 90’s, yeah?

Len stopped at G and grabbed the first book. It looked a little worn but oh well. 

They mused on if there were others and decided that that they probably had enough books, moving to go back down when they saw it in the corner. 

A whole ass room filled with manga. 

They plopped the books they had grabbed on the little table in the room and began searching. 

“Alright. Red River, Fushigi Yugi, Inuyasha and... “ They scrunched their nose. They didn’t want to acknowledge .hack//. Too much, too big and they’d only read book two of a spin off in sixth grade because it was in their school library and they made an oath.

And ooh! Spirited Away. 

Noice. 

They grabbed that shit too, grabbed the other books, stacking the loose manga on top and made their way down the stairs very carefully. 

Fucking nailed it. 

They calmly set their books on the check out desk, smiling, “Hi, can these be held for a bit. I need to check one more section.”

The librarian, a nicer one apparently, smiled, “Absolutely. Just let me know when you’re ready.”

They grinned, “Awesome! Thank you so much.”

They walked over to the nonfiction section, mentelly reviewing the MLA citations. 

The Elegant Universe… The Fabric of Reality… That really cool YouTube video… The Fabric of the Cosmos…

Well, good enough. 

Probably. 

“Hi,” they greeted the young librarian, who they noted had long blonde hair and glasses and reminded them a lot of Supergirl, dragging out the i. 

“Hi, are you ready to check out?”

“Yeah, here,” they set the books down, almost impressed with the stack. The last time they had a stack like that it was 25 volumes of manga and ten books for research. Ah. High school was fun.

Shit, another thing to check.

“Dante’s Comedic Cycle, Alice in Wonderland, The Wizard of Oz? Research paper?” She hummed, as she scanned the books.

They smiled, “Yeah, got a paper on science fiction in pop culture. Thought I’d go a different route than usual.”

The librarian smiled and they felt a chill run down their back.

Probably the ADHD chill or whatever.

“And your library card?” 

Aw shit.

They slapped their ass, finding their wallet in their back jean pocket, which was weird as when they wore their wool coat it was usually in their coat pocket.

Eh.

Len pulled out their wallet and… oh thank god, there was a card.

“Here,” they smiled. 

“Great,” she scanned it, “These will be due on the sixth of January.”

“Awesome,” they pulled a bag out of their coat pocket, deciding that questioning the shit they had was too much work and they didn’t get paid for it, and put the books in the bag. 

“Where’s the nearest hotel?” They asked, ignoring every red flag spinning in their head and the yell of YIKES. Probably nothing. Just smile and wave. You’ll never have to see this bitch again Lenu, just hold tight.

“There’s a really nice inn, just walk down Broadway, you’ll see it.”

They smiled, nodded and thanked her before going on their way.

  
  


It was a fifteen minute walk, which wasn’t the worse they’d ever done but the books were a bit of a bother. It would have been nicer if they had a backpack, evenly distributed weight but no… 

If there was a God, he was laughing at them. 

They paused. 

“Wait, is there a God?” they looked around, “Gods?” they squinted before shrugging, “Above my paygrade.” 

They walked into the inn, honestly super impressed with the landscaping and the interior design. 

“Hi, do you have a reservation?” The manager (at least that’s what they thought they were) asked. 

“Oh Alvarez?” Worth a shot, right?

“Ah, yes, right here. Lenu Alverez?”

“Uh, yeah, that’s me,” they smiled. 

“Great, we have you in room 201, here’s your key,” the manager smiled, “I’m Ralph, and should you need anything, don't be afraid to call.”

They smiled and thanked him, making their way to their room.

“Wow,” they blinked as they unlocked it. 

It was about the same as their apartment bedroom but with blue walls, a big window and white curtains. 

They glanced around, noting the places a person could be and checking them as best they could without looking weird.

“Life is like a hurricane, here in, duckburg,” they hummed as they held tight to their books. 

Wardrobe, empty. Under the bed, clear. Bathroom… shower, all clear. Cameras… Eh, can’t check for everything. 

Lenu exhaled heavily, unzipped their boots, took off their green skinny jeans and gold sweater and began reading.

  
  
  


A knock on their hotel door shook them from their nap that they had somehow taken. Wack how that happens.

They debated on whether or not to answer and if they could get away with pretending to still be asleep, when the door was forced open and two white men came through with guns blazing. 

They blinked.

“Oh my fucking god,” They stared at the intruders, trying to process the events.

Shit!

“I’m a broke ass college student, please don’t shoot me?” they squeaked out, ending in an upward inflection, because of course they did, and a nervous smile. 

The pair exchanged a look before turning to them, and they thanked god that they hadn’t taken off their bra and wrapped the blanket around themself. 

No indecency here, no sir-e.

“What are you doing here?” The elder one said, maybe around 40? 50? Shit, they were really bad with ages, weren’t they? He looked to be around their parents age anyway. 

“Uh, I’m on winter break,” that’s right Len, stick to the truth. Obviously, not the whole truth though. Can’t unload that on the poor assholes trying to kill them.

The younger one splashed water on their face.

They blinked.

And stared at the two though water splashed glasses.

“Can I wipe my glasses off or are you gonna shoot me, cause I’mma be real, if I live through being shot, you're paying my hospital bills.”

The younger one hit them with… salt?

“Really, look, I don’t know what’s goin’ on but like, if you aren’t here to murder me, can we talk this out?” 

The younger one took a step forward and cut their hand.

“Fuckin’ hell man! What the fuck! I dunno if you know but like, this feels like a hate crime.” The younger one seemed on the verge of doing something else, god knows what else, when the elder held his shoulder tight.

“Dean, that’s enough.”

“But-”

“She’s human.”

They cringed, catching the attention of both of them again.

“What.” the elder asked gruffly.

“I’m not a girl, I’m genderfluid-” they huffed, “Look, you two barged into my hotel room hours after I appear in two thousand fucking three with my license wack and it has not been a good day, let alone year. So if you both could kindly fuck off, that’s be great.”

“Appear?”

They narrowed their eyes.

“Look, it’s been a weird day. I’ll go to sleep and wake up home and chalk this all up to a dream,” they combed their right hand through their hair. 

“What do you mean appearing in 2003? It's 2004.”

“I mean like, I was living through the goddamned Apocolype bingo board that is 2020 and I got fucking isekai’d to somewhere the fuck else. And yeah, alright, do I got my new year mixed up, big deal.”

Lenu resisted the urge to curl up and cry as the stress got to them, engulfing their nerves. Damn, just when they thought nothing could shock them anymore.

Anyway.

Gotta hold that shit in, Len.

A silence fell for a minute and they elected to break it with a laugh.

“I’m Lenu, by the way. Sophomore in college, majoring in classics and history with an art history minor. I use they/them pronouns and my sexuality is none of my business.”

The two walked further in and closed the door behind themselves. 

Kinda considerate, although one still had a gun on them and they were only in their underwear.

“I’m John and this is my son, Dean, how did you get here?”

“Well, I was on a walk and this dude ran into me, the fucker wasn’t even wearing a mask. Fuck a global pandemic, amiright? Ugh, anyway, then I open my eyes and I’m hours away from my apartment and staring at the ocean with my phone dead and my licence with my name on it.”

“Global pandemic?”

“Oh, right, it’s kind of a hundred year thing and it’s super shitty. Last I checked, there were over 15 million infected in the US, no recoveries and over 300k dead.. Worldwide, maybe 50 mil with 33 mil recovered and over a million dead. Pretty shitty. Dunno if it’ll happen here. Don’t know if I’m in my past or another one,” they rubbed their face,“I did a shit load of research already and I haven’t found anything conclusive, aside from, ya know, not finding my father's obituary and-”

“What do you have for proof you’re from the future?”

“Well, there was still a narrow margin for the 2000 election, yeah?”

“Yes,” Dean said, exchanging a look with his father.

Fuck that bitch, whatever. 

“Well, that matches up. And I’m assumin’ 9/11 when down similarly enough that there’s a war right now?”

“Yes,” John gruffed.

They tugged their left ear, noting they were wearing small hoops. When did those get there?

“Well, I don’t remember much from this time, as I was born in ‘01… but I know that Dick Cheney made money off the Iraq war, thousands of civilians are dying, that buildings have wires and the FBI is spying on civilians. All ‘cause of that.”

“The Iraq War just started last year.”

They blinked.

“Oh, that’s fair. I always thought it started just after-” they paused as they remembered, “Right the War in Afghanistan and the Iraq war were different,” they smiled to themself. 

The pair stared at them.

“And I don’t recall the exact events that led to it, but the Syrian civil war started in 2014? 2011? South Sudan was also a thing…” they tapped their chin trying to recall their childhood.

Ah… Eminnem was 01. Kim Possible was … 02? Katrina 05. Johnny Cash died in 02? 03? What the fuck happened in 2004? 

“Do you just know wars?” Dead arched an eyebrow.

“No, I watched a lot of TV as a kid so I remember that shit. I could tell you how Kim Possible ends or Buffy,” they scratched their cheek, “That’s airing right now, right? And Monk! Damn, I loved that show.”

Wait.

“Hey! I really wanted a flip phone but by the time I got a phone they were out and smartphones were the way to go,” they pulled out their phone, which was connected to the internet and charged somehow- they weren’t going to look a gift horse in the mouth.

“This is a Google phone, they didn’t come out till… 2015? Apple’s the big brand because of course they are,” they scoffed but paused, “Did Google exist in 2003? It did, right? I think I used it. And ebay. Do you know what I’m talking about?”

“It’s been around for a few years now,” Dean arched an eyebrow.

“Oh cool. I had it by the time I was on the computer but that wasn’t till… 05? 06? Definitely 07 ‘cause Nickelodeon did an election poll for kids. That was pretty dope.” 

“Is there any proof beyond the phone?”

They blinked.

“I mean I’ve got bluetooth headphones and an Ipod nano,” they paused, “Hey-”

“Yes.”

Lenu nodded.

“Cool, cool.”

John stared at them and ran a hand over his face, “What have you got?”

“Well, I’m not sure if you’re familiar with portal fantasy, or as I like to group it, isekai?”

“Like Narnia and Alice and shit?” Dean quipped.

“Yeah, exactly. Except, I’m considering the idea of wormholes and alternate universes and dimensions. Quantum physics shit.”

Dean blinked and they noted that he was overtly threatening and seemed to be keeping his eyes respectful. 

“So those books?”

“Research. I did a paper in high school but that’s not gonna help me figure out shit. I’m thinking it’s the summoning variety but also I could’ve died and been transmigrated. Or maybe I’m in Hell,” they shrugged, “Jury’s out and I took a nap so that’s only one theory out.”

Dean stared, letting out a sigh as he looked away.

“Any beer?” John asked.

“Uh, no sir, I’m not a drinker and I‘m underage-”

Dean got up and checked the fridge, “And what’s this?”

He held a drink up.

“Desuchttes. My dad likes that brand,” they nodded before pausing, “Wait, that was in the fridge?”

He arched an eyebrow and they blinked.

“It was empty when I got in, I check that shit,” they combed through their hair, “Shit.” Had someone come into their room while they were napping?

They got up and emptied their pockets of their jeans and coat, tying the blanket around them so they didn’t have to rely on their arms.

Wallet, keys, ipod, headphones. 

Keys, home key, apartment key, room key and… a car key? 

“You mind if I look around, or are you gonna shoot me?” 

“Go ahead, sweetheart,” Dean chuckled while John stared out the window. 

Lenu opened the closet and saw their computer bag and their favourite clothes. 

What the fuck.

Wool sweaters, their other wool jacket, flannels, sweatshirts, dresses, skits, jeans and overalls...

Wait.

They pulled out the grey sweatshirt and stared at it.

No holes.

No fraying.

What.

“Nebraska?” John asked.

“Uh, yeah, Mom was from there, she got this in the 90’s. Think she was working for Fish and Wildlife at this time. My dad was already in his current job in 01.”

“You were born in 01?”

“Yup, June 6. Seattle, lived a lot of my life in this state, aside from seven odd years in Georgia.”

“Georgia?”

“In a suburb of Atlanta, yeah.”

“Big move.”

“Well, my mother died so, yeah.”

Lenu grabbed their computer bag and pulled out their computer.

Thank the sweet stars that they still had it.

“What is that?”

“Laptop, uh, macbook pro, I think? I dunno, it has a touch bar. I bought it for college and personal work.”

“Oh?” Dean asked, drinking the beer. Whatever.

“Music editing, went to an art school, kinda got hooked.”

He sputtered and looked at them.

“Really?” 

“Yeah, I was more into the technical side of music but we had to try everything. Definitely left a mark,” they sighed and looked at the fridge, “It there like any martinelli's or root beer in there?”

Dean snorted as he opened the fridge and John eyed them.

“You’re in luck,” Dean got up and handed them the bottle.

“Thanks,” they murmured as they took it. They quickly opened the bottle and tipped it.

Dean chuckled.

A lull fell as they drank their sparkling apple cider.

“Is there any reason you’re still here and not running off?” Lenu elected to break the silence.

The pair exchanged a look and they decided that was annoying as fuck. 

“What do you know about demons?”

They blinked.

“Uh, which canon you want? ‘Cause I know a lot of different things but it’s anybody’s game, ya know,” they took a swig and paused, “You guys aren’t like, ghost hunters are you?” They narrowed their eyes.

Fuck, did they make sure they weren’t in the Charmed universe? Or American Gods? Constantine?

(Constantine is DC, Len, you checked that shit, even if you forgot about the other two)

“Sweetheart, we do a lot more than ghosts.”

“Well, there’s just things you don’t fuck with and-” Wait. They looked at him. “You aren’t called anything special like uh, I dunno hunters are you?”

The two froze.

“Aw, fuck, next you’ll tell me you’re John and Dean Winchester.”

John pulled out his gun and pointed it at them, “How the fuck do you know that?”

“Calm down John, it’s an isekai thing, transported into a fictional world. This time to a show called Supernatural,” they pouted, “Man, I was hoping for like, Harry Potter or Naruto or somethin’. Not a show that consumed all of one month. Fuckin hell.”

“What do you know?”

“Aw, shit, daddy issues, mommy issues, family codependency, absurd power jumps of the big bad and a headache I didn’t want to deal with,” they tapped their chin, “Hey, is Sam at Stanford right now?”

An awkward silence fell.

“Dope, so that answers that, uh, look the demon you want Azazel, Azriel, Asriel or whatever- is shitty but like-”  
  


“Azazel?”

“The demon that set Mary and like 40 other moms on fire. It was either Azazel or Azriel. I think it’s the former and the latter is an angel… Yeah, think that’s it.”

“How do you know this?”

“It was in the show, look-” they tucked their hair behind their ear (like Debby Ryan because of fucking TikTok), “I’m pretty sure that fucker had like eyes everywhere and I dunno what I’m doing here,” Lenu took another swig, “What are you doing here?”

“There have been a lot of John and Jane Doe deaths in this area.”

They scrunched their nose.

“In Aberdeen, wack.”

“We figured you were the latest,” Dean shrugged.

They froze.

“Just checking, the theory right now is that the other deaths are people like me, out of their time and confused and cause we’re not in the right universe, we show up as J-Does even with licences? Or I’m assuming there’s licences because I have one.”

“Yup, that sums it up,” Dean took another swig of his beer.

“Dope, that’s exactly what I needed in my life. More shenaniganary to get me killed,” they took a swig, “Welp, it really do be like that sometimes. Any ideas on what it is?”

Another look exchange.

“Well, we figured it might’ve been a monster-”

“But it was the whole… J-Doe thing that didn’t add up. All the bodies look pristine. No apparent cause of death.”

“Not even diseases? I’d think I’d be in danger considering germs might be different.”

“None.”

“Hm, well now this is intriguing, all right, what’s another thing in the novel of my life? I’ll play bait.”

Dean choked on his beer.

“Sweetheart, your life’s in danger-”

“My whole life for the past year has been just another thing on the apocalypse bingo board,” they shrugged and gave a half smirk, “And we all die someday, you either kill yourself or get killed.”

John sighed, “This isn’t a game, Lenu.”

“Yeah, I know. But look, I’m out of my world and I’m probably never getting back to it. So I die or I live for a while and then die.”

They chugged a quarter of the bottle.

“Sweetheart, you’re drinking Martninelli’s like it’s wine,” Dean chuckled, “Am I supposed to take you seriously?”

Motherfucker. 

It’s about the aesthetic. 

“Look, I’ve been taking care of myself for two years-” ignoring the few months during quarantine but they didn’t need to know that, “and I’d like to say, even as a poor college student waiting to get hit by a bus or murdered in the woods, I’ve done pretty well. I think I can make decisions about my life, if even for curiosity.’

“Hit by a bus?” John asked, gruffly looking like an asshole. 

“Oh, yeah,’ they waved their hand, “College was like 25k a year and being a sugar baby wasn't working out but everyone knows if you get hit by a rich person, you sue and your college is paid. Or you die. Win-win.”

Another awkward silence fell.

“Look, I was born in Gen-Z and in our universe, things got fucked and man, I don’t know anyone without some trauma.”

John sighed and got up.

“Dean, stay with them, I’m going to get dinner.”

And left the room with a slam of the door.

They blinked.

“He’s a boomer, isn’t he? Whoops.”

“I think Dad’s been confronted that normal isn’t real.”

They scrunched their nose, “Well, I don’t know what normal is for you but jokes about dying, the failing education system and the one percent are normal ways of coping. Or, well, humor is. According to my therapist,’ that paused, “Which I dont have right now. Bummer. Well, I can probably manage. Half of my stressors are non-existent…” Lenu waved their hands, “Might be generational differences, my parents were born in 1960 and 1959, I should have betted on that.”

“What do you mean?”

“Certain things I make jokes on are… unappreciated by my parents. ACAB, the orange juice conspiracy, men are trash, nazis deserve death, arson is the answer, and so on.”

He blinked and kind of bristled.

“What happened?”

“Well, I never trusted cops as a kid but I was fifteen when a white supremisit was elected and showed how racist America was. After continuously spitting on refugees and immigrants and literally every minority, if the white house was burnt down, I’d celebrate,” they blinked, “Hey, if we’re sharing trauma, give me some. That’s how bonding works.”

“My mom died when I was five and we constantly moved around the country fighting monsters and Sam left us. Two years ago.”

“Yeah, that sucks ass,” they took a swig of their Martinelli's, “Uh, sorry if that was insensitive but I know I don’t like it when people say ‘I’m sorry’ to my tragic backstory so uh-”

“You’re right, it sucks ass. Dad doesn’t even look at me, I’m just his soldier-” oh no Lenu hit the daddy issues- “and not his son. I know Sam’s the favourite but I…” he trailed off.

“Uh, I dunno if he has favourites but uh, he seems like a military dad and they are weird as shit. I think he’s emotionally stunted. You should try telling him that you feel that way.”

He stared at them.

“Would you do that?”

“Uh, my dad, yeah. But like he’s an awesome dad and is an outlier. My mom, I’d rather die than admit to what I feel about her, shits complicated. I’m perfectly fine bringing up things she did that were uncool. Like, I got in trouble constantly for lying. And saying I don’t know. But kids are stupid and I was especially and also motivations are very vague,” they shrugged, “But I bring up the problems and not really the feelings. I've called her out on dehumanizing me.”

“How is that any different than what I’m doing?”

“I have a therapist. That’s like a huge help, but I don’t suppose you can get that… Well, maybe we could… or maybe if we…” They tapped their chin. Getting an id and insurance was a lot of paper… but Europe had free healthcare… a fake passport for him… maybe…

  
“Was there anything weird before you came here?” Dean Winchester spoke up. 

They blinked and turned back to him, surprised to find he was in fact still there. 

Lenu should have figured that their luck was shot to hell.

“Uh, well, I was going for a walk. Just a quick one. Made a joke about being back by 4:20 to my roommate. I was enjoying my tunes and then some asshole without a mask bumped into me. I called out but they didn’t turn around and so I just decided to continue on and then everything went dark and I opened my eyes to the ocean.”

He arched an eyebrow and took a swig of his beer.

“Global pandemic. Six feet distancing and masks unless you’re an asshole,” they played with the bottle, enjoying the sound of their nails against the glass.

“So what’s with all this shit?”

They shrugged, “It’s mine. Dunno how it got here, I came to the hotel and they said there was a reservation under my name. Decided to roll with it. Came in and just opened my books and started reading after making sure there was no one and nothing in here. Alice and Dorthy lucked out with the whole dream shit and I thought I might until you two showed up and I woke up still here.”

“How do you know you’re not still dreaming?”

“‘Cause it is not in the bingo board and what I’m currently reading it wouldn’t show up,” they snapped their fingers, “Way outta left field.”

He scoffed.

“Oh?”

“But maybe Dante’s got a point,” they flipped through the book (which thankfully held the entire trilogy) mentally reviewing their notes. 

“Dante’s Comedic Cycle?”

“Yeah, some bible insert fanfiction but the point is the dude is in another world. Plane of existence. Whatever.”

“And what?”

“Well, I was thinking maybe I’d get my own literature senpai to show me how to be a better person but seeing makes me think it might be regular old isekai with the old get fucked. I either died and came here or came here.”

“How much of a nerd are you?”

“Oh, huge. But I also have taste.”

He snorted and they grinned.

“Is it cool if I put on clothes now?”

He grinned.

“Oh sweetheart, I don’t mind.”

They rolled their eyes, “Yeah, cool,” they got up and looked through their shit.

Blue jean overalls? Yeah… and hmmm…

UBC sweater. 

Lenu quickly dropped the blanket and slipped in the overall, adjusting the straps and then udid them and slipped on the sweater. 

Now socks. 

Ooh nice, thigh highs. Didn’t know they had those. Ignoring the multitudes of socks, Lenu elected to grab their Attack on Titan socks, once more electing to ignore the wack ass things going on. 

They weren’t getting paid enough. 

“Little butch, don’t you think?”

“Can it, Winchester,” they glared, “I’m too tired to give a lecture on the societal construct of gender.”

He seemed to be properly scolded and downed half the beer, content to let them read in peace as he opened another.

  
  


A knock on the door broke their marathoning of Red River (which they were able to find online even though they were pretty sure in their universe the site didn’t exist until sometime around 2010 but they were once again not going to look a gift horse in the mouth) for definitely now the eighth time in their nineteen and half years of existing. But damn if it still wasn’t a good ass story. 

“Let me get this,” Dean murmured and they noted he had green eyes. Like really green. 

Huh.

And here they thought that was just the fanfiction.

He opened the door, and went through all the boring tests with John.

“What do you have, John Winchester?”

The older man stared at them, and pulled out some takeout- Mexican.

Quesadilla with carnitas? How did he- 

They looked up at him in awe. 

“Asked what a four year old would like,” he arched an eyebrow,

Damn.

That stung. 

“Fish tacos for Dean and I,” he set a box down on the little table for Dean. 

They scrunched their nose.

“You’re a child.” If John was scolding them or making an observation, they couldn't tell. Granted, they also didn't give a shit.

“I’m only nineteen but my mind is older,” they hummed with a smile, and opened their container, noting it was made of styrofoam.

“Future song?” Dean asked as he took a bite.

“Uh, Hamilton, musical get started around… 09? 08? Doesn’t hit Broadway til 2012? Huge. If I can, I’ll get tickets here,” they shrugged, chomping into their quesadilla. Goddammit, it was phenomenal. There shouldn’t be this good of Mexican food in fuckng Aberdeen. 

“And going home?” John asked.

“Ah, look, my universe might’ve ended by now. I’m not jumping given the chance,” they took another bite of the quesadilla and couldn’t resist a moan, “Fuck this is good.”

“Local meat and cheese,” John answered.

“Tastes like home,” they mumbled, “Ah, all I need is a Jarrito.”

“What’s that?” Dean asked as he sipped his beer.

“Mexican soda. Best one there is. Like nectar from the gods.”

“Haven’t had it,” Dean hummed.

They snorted, “Yeah, can’t say I’m shocked.” 

Dean and John looked at them.

“Oh?” John asked, but it didn’t feel like a question. 

“Well,” they looked between the two, “It just seems hunting is a really white male thing to do, ya know?”

Shit, was that offensive? 

“I just mean-”

John chuckled, “You’re right, it is mostly white men.”

Every bit of them felt like they were in danger.

Someone was gonna get hurt.

God, why did they have to push? It never went well. They knew better. 

“But you’d best be careful of saying that, kid,” he took a bite of his taco and they felt their soul freeze.

“Alors, la madre de cristo n’etais pas blanco,” they mumbled and noted that there was no reaction from him. 

Well, that took out demon as an excuse for shitty behavior.

Maybe he was just a bastard. 

“Well, are you two staying here or will I be allowed to sleep on my own?”

The father-son duo seemed to be holding a conversation in just eye contact, which- fair enough. It really do be like that. 

“Dean will stay here with you,” John said finally, getting up, “I’ll be back early tomorrow. Be ready.”

“For what?”

The asshole just looked at them and left the room, walking by them without another glance. 

“You and Sammy are way too similar,” Dean said after five minutes of silence.

“Yeah? I always thought he was a little bitch.”

“Hey, don’t call him that,” he looked properly upset, which, fair. They’d be pissed if someone had insulted Cal or June.

They rolled their eyes, “Winchester’s are not known for spectacular judgement or great self control, forgive me.”

“I could ditch your sorry ass, princess,” he growled, and it was funny because he looked so young and unburdened. 

Don’t say it Le-

“Do it, pussy.”

Goddammit, this is why you can’t have nice things. 

He seemed to be taken aback and just stared at them for a moment stuttering for a comeback.

“Allight, point me, zero for you,” they simpered, “Anyway, I hated your dad watching the show and I don’t know if it’s the racism or the sexism.”

He sputtered, “My dad isn’t racist-”

“Yeah, well it’s the undertones,” they shrugged, “Not that you don’t have your own, Dean-o.”

“What are you talking about?”

“Internalized racism. The kind you gotta think about,” they ran a hand through their hair, “Look, I can talk about this for ages so if you want me to shut up, tell me.” Lenu eyed him cautiously, looking for any sort of sign of what he was thinking. 

“Hit me, sweetheart.”

They narrowed their eyes, trying to see the details in his face better, but there was nothing hinting at insincerity. 

Their glasses were only a little off from the prescription, it was probably the scratches causing problems. 

“Are you sure? Like absolutely sure? Cause I’m not gonna check myself if you want me to rant.”

He smiled and took a sip of his beer, leaning into the chair. 

“Hit me.”

“Well, the thing about white boomers is that they’re used to how things used to be and are definitely still believing in American Exceptionalism. And the problem there is that American Exceptionalism is built upon the suffering of minorities. Plus, as if that wasn’t bad enough, the American education system is literal garbage and that there’s still a shit ton of segregation in the US,” they glanced at Dean, trying to see his reaction. They weren’t getting much.

“There’s also a lot of assumptions made about appearances. I got asked if I was adopted a lot as a kid, when I was out with my biological mom. She had pale skin, freckles, blue-green eyes and the prettiest red hair I’ve ever seen. It was frizzy, probably because of the humidity but obviously we looked very different in our colour palette and also my hair was stick-straight and she basically gave me a bowl cut.”

They smiled, little Len was the cutest thing.

“But I digress, generally, there’s issues with the American justice system on all levels in all aspects. There’s targeting of minorities, ‘specially black and brown folks,” they gave a bitter laugh, “I never understood how my father never was busted with heroin with all the racism but I lucked out, I suppose. Less trauma with a dead dad, than a father in prison.”

Lenu tapped the arm of the coach they sat on. 

“Anyway, as if the targeted policing wasn’t bad enough there’s also wealth inequality and segregation. 

“On top of everything, there’s the historical erasure and lack of media representation. Like, with the Natives, there’s only one side of the story getting told. Everything here is on stolen land. And it makes me angry,” they released a breath, letting their puffed cheeks deflate, “And this isn’t my ancestors land. On either side. I’m too far north for my father’s side and too far west for my mother’s side. 

“There’s also maybe ten characters, top, that look like me. And this is the height of inclusive representation, as in the twenty-tens it got a lot whiter.”

“Well, that’s…” Dean trailed off and took a swig of his beer.

“Rough?” They asked with a smile.

He chuckled and nodded.

“Granted, it’s not as bad as the interactions I’d have with people where they called me an it,” another simper, “Those sucked ass.”

They took another bite of their quesadilla, letting silence fall.

“What did you mean earlier?” he gestured with his beer bottle, “That your sexuality is none of your business?”

They swallowed.

“Well, uh. I was a pretty avid reader as a kid, and I had a ton of crushes but then when it came to doing stuff-” they shrugged, “I just didn’t vibe. Like I love girls and I’ve seen handsome dudes and non-binary people I would let have their way with me but like I don’t feel sexual attraction. Like it’s just-” they gestured vaguely, “Going on a roller coaster. Sometimes I’m just curious about the ride, other times I think they’re gross, and sometimes I’m curious how a certain will respond if we go on together.”

He stared at them.

“But you asked why I say it’s none of my business, and that’s because if I knew someone like me, then I’d say their sexuality is none of my business and move on with our relationship.”

Dean snorted and took another swig. 

A silence fell and they studied Dean Winchester’s face.

He looked young, Lenu had noted that earlier but they could see the freckles and the lack of ruggedness they had grown used to seeing.

“Take a picture, it’ll last longer.”

“I’m not enough of a photographer to do you justice,” they simpered.

Yes, Dean Winchester was handsome, beautiful and honestly just aesthetically pleasing to look at. 

But no white men, Lenu, you swore. Do not develop feelings for a straight (debatable) white man.

They took a deep breath in and stared at the ceiling, chewing on the rest of their quesadilla. 

It was a… fish scale ceiling. Wow. 

Bougie.

But also, wow! They’d never seen it before. They’d seen popcorn ceilings, smooth, slap brush ceilings, wood ceilings, tree bark ceiling texture, lace, literal fucking paintings and one time, they seen mirrior in the ceiling. 

It was in a dance studio, but that counted, right?

“What else can you tell me about that show you watched?”

They hummed.

“Probably should hold off, I’d need like ten different forms of protection. Wards, seals, whatever they’re called.”

Which…

They were a little sad not to be in the Wizarding universe or the Shinobi one…

But honestly, what was the goddamned difference other than the fact they just thought Naruto was cool? 

All universes with magic were going to kill them. 

Bum-mer!

F in the chat, for them. Get fucked. 

“Gross. I’m gonna have to talk to people.”

He snorted and they grinned.

“You seem like you’d like to research that kind of shit though.”

“Oh yeah, but this would be getting into the obscure shit where I’d need to send emails and make calls. Do you know how nerve racking that is?” they shuddered.

Dean’s face fell into disbelief with a small smile tugging at his lips. 

“You can shit talk my dad but talking to someone is too hard?”

They grimaced.

“Yeah?” they dragged it out.

“Unbelievable.”

“It’s just like, when you need something from someone versus dealing with my friends parental issues. I’ll shit talk shitty dads all day long.”

They let their words hang in the air before sighing and getting up to wash their hands, which when they walked into the bathroom they noticed all their fucking shit was there, except there were sun earrings, like the early Greek version though. 

Dope, but freaky as hell. 

At least they had their eye shadow. 

And nice! Toothpaste and toothbrush.

They washed their hands, dried them, and then brushed their teeth.

Wait.

They felt their earlobes and noted they were wearing earrings. 

Maybe, it was time for bed. 

  
  


Yeah… 

They looked around the bathroom, noting the print of Narcissus by Caravaggio. 

“Alright, well, I’m going the fuck to bed, do you need anything?” They asked Dean Fucking Winchester.

“Nope.”

And with that they crawled under the covers and closed their eyes. 

  
  


The sky was still dark blue when they opened their eyes. They sighed and grabbed their phone to check the time. 

3 am. 

Fucking hell…

Oh, shit, did they have homework?

They sat up, felt around for their computer and opened it, immediately going to Canvas. 

Nothing.

Oh thank god.

They closed it and let it fall off the side of the bed, gently. 

They released a sigh and turned up the speaker, noting that they had somehow ended up listening to the radio, specialifally the classic rock station.

Fair enough.

Must have been playing a good song.

They grabbed their phone and checked their messages. 

Nada, zilch. 

Wait. 

They looked around the room.

Two chairs, a love seat, a coffee table, a backless couch and-

Oh fuck.

“Fuck.”

“Good morning, princess,” they heard Dean Fucking Winchester(tm) say. 

“Yeah, guess you can say that,” they huffed out a breath. 

Maybe dying wasn’t such a bad idea…

But shit, Cal in any universe shouldn’t die without them. 

…

…

They owed it to any version of Cal to look into their death.

“What time does John wake up?” 

He glanced at them from the papers he was reading.

“He’ll be up in two hours. Why don’t you get some more sleep, princess?” his voice felt condescending and rubbed them the wrong way.

“Uh, yeah, I’ll pass. What have you got?” They got up from the bed and walked over to the coffee table and sat in one of the chairs, catty-corner to the loveseat where Dean fucking Winchester sat. 

There were roughly ten autopsies and pictures were spread out.

There was Avi Haddad, who’d they’d seen but also-

“Ginevra Williams? Morreen Barnes? Vivian? They look the fucking same- they look like Juniper. And-” They looked closer, “Avi, Mel, Luz and Syd- they look like Cal. My brother.” There were two more people who they didn’t know and the last one itched at something.

He stared at them.

“Any other information that might be helpful?”

They bit their lip and mulled it over.

Alternate versions of people close to them who had been isekai’d and were being killed?

Kinda rude.

Why were they only just now iseka’d? Were they the final target? Then why- (no doubles)- did they only just now get isekai’d? 

What isekai’d them?

Was it different from what had isekai’d the… doubles, Lenu supposed they were technically?

Dean hummed.

“What’s with all the beer knowledge if you don’t drink?” Evidently to ask something way out of left field to keep himself awake.

“Uh, good luck? I dunno, my dad loved IPA and shit and I know I’d only ever buy craft even if I don’t drink-”

“You’d have to have drunk some at some point, a little teenage rebellion.”

“Uh, beer? No, I don't like it,” he opened his mouth but they held up their hand, “But other stuff? I’ve tried it. On my own and with my parents… They never hid the liquor, hell, they enabled. My dad was giving me ice cream with Kalua at 10. Nah, I just had a bad experience and haven’t really drank since.” 

Aside from the wine at their grandmother’s funeral. 

That was some excellent wine. 

And liquor with their drinks… 

Did triple sec count? 

Maybe they drank more than they thought.

“Oh, get wasted?”

“Nope, someone vomited and my stomach is more sensitive when I drink. I mean, I thought it was the like, ten shots with milk, but the next time I had half a shot and still vomited. So yeah.”

He blinked.

“Ten shots?”

“I casually drank in high school on my own. Five shots of vodka in my smoothies to drink while watching TV. Self care.”

He choked.

“Damn. That’s…”

“Had to have fun somehow. Only child,” they yawned, “Friends were super busy.”

A silence fell, until Dean knitted his brows.

“You were in high school in 2015.”

“Uh, I think so. Graduated 2019… so yeah. Why?”

“That’s crazy.”

They snorted, “Yeah, it was kinda wild.”

“Normal high school experience?”

They laughed.

“God no. I went to an art school. I would have killed myself in a normal high school.”

“Oh?”

“Some kids tried to bully me in elementary school but I literally didn’t get it. If I’d gone to school with them… it’d have been worse I think. I wouldn’t have gotten as confident,” a swig, “But whatever. Got through it.”

He hummed.

“Were you into theatre?”  
  


They snorted.

“For a bit yeah, that shit’s toxic and you’ve really got to be prepared for rejection. I wasn’t really all that passionate. I’m dramatic for personal kicks, not a stage.”

“My brother was in a play… Fuck, think it was something like, small town. Your town…”

“Our Town? My school did a production my first year, I think. I never saw anything but teasers but I think it’s pretty good.”

“So what art were you into then? Drawing? Dancing?”

“Uh, writing actually,” they fiddled with the blanket, “And music production. I wrote poetry and short stories.”

He snorted.

“Poetry?”

They gave a sardonic smile.

“Yeah, always written ten minutes before it was due. I didn’t like working my poetry, still don’t. Gets rid of the organicness.”

“And you wrote about what? The woes of youth? Young love?”

“Nah, usually some beef I had with my parents being dead and my still being alive,” they popped their lips and drummed their thighs, “Definitely some good catharsis.”

He stared at them.

“Dean Winchester, you call me a pansy and I will eviscerate you,” Lenu glared.

“You’re so fucking weird.”

“Yeah, well, you have daddy issues so you don’t get rights.”

They stared at the wall as they processed their words.

“Okay, so-”

“No, no, you don’t get rights either-”

“Fuck-”

“So why don’t you tell me about us in your… universe.”

“Because that’d make sense. And you’re a dude.”

He stared at them with a bitchface.

They grinned.

“Okay, so you’re played by an actor named Jensen Ackles. He voiced Red Hood and I really don’t know much about actors unless they’re anime voice actors, so,” they shrugged, “The plot follows you and Sam and the first two season are really good. Then things go sideways,” Lenu tapped the bottle, “And uh, a lot happens. That, like, if I can, I would very much like to prevent it since I’m here.”

He took a swig of his drink, it smelled like coffee, “Yeah, that’s not vague at all.”

“I was thirteen! It was my winter break of eighth grade and I binged it. So yeah, I’m so sorry.”

“At thirteen, I was hunting monsters and flirting with girls.”

“Yeah, well, I’m the pretty average one here so you shove off,” they flipped him off.

“You were a nerd, weren’t you,” he scoffed, “You and Sam would get on well.”

“I was, am, and will be. But you could argue liking sports is a form of nerd-dom so…” they trailed off and grinned at the look of horror on his face. “Especially more theatrical sports like wrestling.” 

They gave a ‘what can you do’ shrug and their smirk got bigger.

“But you’re a nerd anyway, so-”

“How so?” he looked at them with 

“Dean, you make band references and actors your covers. That’s some nerdy allusion shit. And considering you did get the-” they paused, “Oh my god, you’re thinking your actor played Joker before Joker. No no no, just give me a year or two, you’re life will change, oh my god, this is gonna be great.”

“What.”

They gave a cheshire cat smile. 

Dean rolled his eyes, and smirked.

“That’s not a good look, princess, shouldn’t make it.”

They stuck out their tongue and rolled their eyes.

“Yeah, well, how’s your childhood trauma affecting your relationships?”

“Is this casual conversation for you?” he mumbled. 

“Oh yeah, it’s casual bonding. Gotta know it to be my friend- look, I’ll start,” they inhaled and exhaled slowly, “I pretty much raised myself and so I find it hard to follow rules. I grew up watching rom-coms and definitely have trouble deciding if I have any romantic or sexual attraction so I decided to table that.”

He arched an eyebrow but took another drink with a shrug.

“Fair.”

They hummed and tilted their head with a half-smirk.

“So my mom died when I was young, and my dad learned about the Supernatural, taught me to hunt.”

They nodded, loving that he figured they wouldn’t be surprised. They weren’t but they loved the assumption.

“I was the one in charge of Sammy,” a swig. “And he left me. So it’s just me.”

Oh yikes.

He snorted.

“Go ahead, why filter now?”

“Well, I was gonna say someones got issues-”

“So do you-”

“And I think that you need a few healthy outlets, but also I know jack shit about anything and I highly recommend a professional-” 

“Can’t exactly do that-” he simpered.

“Yeah, so instead I’d recommended finding something other than alcohol and sex,” they shrugged, “But I’m also dumb as shit so take everything with a grian of salt.”

They sighed, “Also, I want you to know, I had a breakdown because my Japanese recording kept just being slightly off and I honestly could not handle talking. So, anything you say is not going to sound weird.”

He snorted but continued anyway, “I just wish it wasn’t like this. The motels, nameless girls, always risking my life- for what? No thanks?”

“What else?”

“I wish my mom never died, that I saw my dad drink more than I talked to him. I hate that he was my drill sergeant before my dad. That-” and he started crying and all they could do was him into their arms and hold him. 

“I just… wish…”

They hummed gently, not quite sure what he needed but just allowing him to do what he needed.

“I want so badly to hear that he’s proud of me. Just once. That I’m enough.”

“You are,” Lenu said before they could stop themself, “A lot of dads are shitty, and I’m still not sure how to offer support, but you’re important and valid. You’re amazing and spectacular, and so kind. You’re generous and giving. You’re funny, genuine and caring.”

They looked up at the scaled ceiling again, trying to resist the urge to cry.

“I’m proud of you,” they murmured.

Dean seemed to pull back at that, and they loosened their grip to allow him what he needed. Which was, apparently, to study their face. 

“Me?” he whispered.

They turned their head to return his gaze, and wow- his eyes were still so fucking green, how the fuck- they lost their breath. 

“Yeah. I’m proud of you, Dean Winchester.”

He stared for another moment, searching their face, and pulled them into him tightly. 

  
  


Lenu Isidore Alverez had fallen asleep in Dean Winchester’s arms during a bonding moment and they had never wanted to cancel their life subscription more than when they woke up with their head nestled in the space between his head and shoulder.

Perhaps the monster of the week was an excellent option…

But damn, Dean didn’t deserve a… a friendly acquaintance dying that quickly. That would be mean and needlessly cruel. 

“Morning sweetheart,” he mumbled into their hair.

“Mornin’,” they mumbled in return.

“Dad’ll be up soon so you gotta get ready for the day,” he nudged them, “It’s about seven and we’ve got a busy day ahead of us.”

They hummed but didn’t feel like leaving the warmth he provided.

He looked at them and sighed, standing up and letting them fall to the ground.

“What the hell was that for?” Lenu exclaimed, mostly for the dramatics but also because now their ass was gonna be sore from the drop. “Asshole.”

He laughed and made his way into the bathroom.

They pouted but elected to suck it up and got up, looking inside the wardrobe at their clothes.

They took a shower yesterday but…

They felt their hair was a little flat… probably needed to be washed…

They heard the shower turn on and the curtain pull. 

Oh. 

Lenu grabbed the autopsy reports and set them on their bed, climbing onto the bed themselves. 

Avi had been killed by hanging, ruled originally as suicide, but given the spree, had been overruled as murder. 

Dope. 

Vivian's death was a blood loss. Blatent murder, given that she also had wound consitent with torture.

It looked like the others had all been slow deaths, all equally painful. 

God, why the fuck did this feel like someone was out to get them.

“Wait…”

They looked through the files.

“If I’m gonna get murdered wasn’t yesterday the perfect time?”

They looked over the files, noting that each person had been found in an abandoned area, maybe there was a circle?

Lenu jumped off the the bed and in the drawers for a map.

“Map. Mappy, map, map. Where is a-” in the bottom nightstand they found a map of Aberdeen. 

“Brilliant.”

They looked at the address of each location and marked each one.

Then the marked where the police had noted the first sightings and in a different colour they marked their own locations.

“Fuck.”

Not only was there a pattern in the deaths and arrivals but they fit the pattern.

“Len?” Dean interrupted their thoughts and- oh.

He was shirtless.

They looked away.

“What’s up?”

“You gonna shower?”

Hmm…

Nice hair and feeling clean or-

“Yup!” they grabbed their iphone, once again ignoring the wack ass things appearing and skipped into the bathroom, pulling up youtube as they used the toilet, leaving their pants off.

Good tunes…

Heathers sounded fun. Five minute shower.

They flushed and washed their hands, starting the shower and waited a moment before setting the phone on the ledge and pressing play.

“I’ve been through ten highschools,” they let their hair get soaked with their hair, combing it as they held their head upside down. 

They grabbed some shampoo and worked it in, upside down.

“I don't learn the names. Don't bother with faces. All I can trust is this concrete oasis, seems every time I'm about to despair, there's a 7-11 right there.”

Len quickly scrubbed their body as they sang along, really milking the notes and as the song ended and they evaluated if they wanted more shower time, they realised that their hair still had to be dealt with and-

“You chucked me out like I was trash, for that you should be dead— But! But! But! Then it hit me like a flash, what if high school went away instead' Those assholes are the key! They're keeping you away from me. They made you blind, messed up your mind But I can set you free!”

And so they scrubbed again and got their back, noting at least the scars there hadn’t changed and rinsed their hair right as JD was banging on Veronica’s door.

They scrunched their hair, and just let the water run as the let the song run and shut off the water right as it ended. 

They grabbed their towel and wrapped it around themself, drying off and then grabbing their lotion- lavender!- rubbed it in. 

Brillant!

“Now where’s-” and ah, shit, they’d forgotten to bring clothes in hadn’t they?

Well, they brushed their teeth as they mulled over the right course of action.

They wrapped the towel around themself again and poked their head out of the bathroom and upon seeing Dean looking over the autopsies weighed how much they cared about a straight, white man seeing them in just a towel and decided that men ain’t shit and they were already getting cold. 

Len calmly made their way to the dresse, grabbing all their clothes but upon seeing a binder, they decided that today was already weird as fuck and just grabbed their pretty pink bra, a pair of underwear, and a pair of jeans; electing to sneak back into the bathroom to get dressed. 

“Not a bad look, sweetheart.”

They yelped and thankfully hadn’t let go of their towel, but swore at him and slammed the door behind themself, electing to ignore his laughs.

Once they accomplished that, they hung up the towel and walked back out, flipping him off. 

“Aw, it’s a little cold to just be wearing that, isn’t it?”

They hummed but looked at their shirts and sweaters…

Green? The gold sweater? What would spark joy for Lenu this shitty morning?

The nineties sweatshirt.

Brillant. 

They slipped it on and grabbed a pair of anklets, slipping into them as well.

“Ya know Winchester, if I slapped you, you’d deserve it.”

“Is that all you’d do to punish me?”

This sonuvabitch was testing them and honestly they were not getting paid.

“Yeah.”

He seemed to playfully pout but quickly shook it off as he spoke again.

“So, nice work on the map.”

“Yeah, thanks,” they nodded, “Also, what are your thoughts on what it is? Because I’ve ruled vampires, werewolves, angels, shapeshifters, kitsune and tricksters. I’m between god and demons but also could just be coincidence and a serial killer.”

The pair held each other’s gaze for a moment before bursting into laughter. 

“Alright, so we wanna place bets?”

Dean let out a snort and grinned, “You know there’s only four demon possessions a year, top, right?”

They let their face fall into a Dreamworks' half-smirk.

“For now.”

His grin fell but he quickly recovered.

Kudos to him.

Go Dean Winchester.

Oh wow, what a wild concept. 

“Anyway, what kinda god opens a whole new can of worms. Also, why but that’s just personal detective desires.”

He stared at them, the kind of stare that was basically the human equivalent of the buffering screen. 

“What does that mean in English?”

“I like to know why, in anything ever, so in the case of murder- why? Obviously, it doesn’t change anything- cool motive, still murder- but like, self care.”

“I’m finding about seventy percent of the time you open your mouth I’m left with more questions than answers.”

“That low? I’m frankly amazed. I don’t know what’s coming out of my mouth ninety-five percent of the time- no thoughts, head empty.”

Quite honestly, they were a dumb bitch and they felt sad that Dean Winchester would-

Nah, who were they kidding? Bitch can suffer. 

Just then there was a knock at the door and the two froze.

“I’ll get it, you hang tight, princess,” he opened the door and saw John. 

The father-son duo ran through the security checks quickly, “There’s another one of you. A little girl. Five,” John, in all his gruffness, said as he entered with breakfast.

“Shit,” they combed their hands through their hair, exhaling heavily, and knitting their brows,“How can you tell?”

“Look of bewilderment.”

Fair enough, they granted.

“Where is she?”

“Library.”

They paused.

“The library? How’d you know?”

He glared and right, he’d already seen them. 

They also filed the fact that the bastard had already been up for a while. 

“Know anything about the significance of the library?”

“Well, the library is kind of neutral ground. They don’t really change a shit ton, dewey decimal system and all. They’re known safe places if you’re lost or in potential danger, too.”

Dean arched an eyebrow and John nodded thoughtfully.

“So, did you talk to anyone while there?”

“Just two librarians. An older one that looked at me like I was scum and another that acted pleasantly enough but definitely had some wack ass vibes but I wasn't gonna do anything. Benefit of the doubt and all.”

“No. That gets you killed. Trust your gut.” And then the man left without a word. 

Damn. Vaguely dickish, but not wrong.

“Do you have gut feelings often?” Dean asked, taking a bite of his donut. 

“Yeah, but it’s just like, wack vibes, ya know? And I’m an asshole so I’m never sure.”

He chuckled.

“In your art school?”

“Yeah, happened like three, five times? I mean, I was absolutely right but I’m also an asshole.”

“Who was it?”

“Oh, just someone who turned out to make one of my friends miserable, another was someone who ended up being a pedophile. It felt sus. My principal rubbed me the wrong way and she ended up being kinda racist,” they shrugged, “

“What do you think she’ll be?”

They hummed and thought about it.

In the Supernatural world…

“I think we’ll run into her again but I don’t think she’s the cause for this case. It’s got to unfold slowly and make me doubt my judgement.”

Dean arched an eyebrow but said nothing.

“And then when it’s revealed I will have mostly forgotten my thoughts and I’ll just think: maybe it was a one off,” they let their lips curl, “It’s about the gaslighting.”

Could you gaslight yourself? 

Or is that just like, insecurity and terrible memory?

Time to table that line of thought.

Dean’s phone gave a little ring and he pulled it out.

“Dad says that the two librarians you described weren’t there.”

Well, that sucked.

“Fuck.”

They looked at the map, identifying the types of locations the victims- was that the right terminology?- had been last seen.

Two had been seen in a cafe, three in a bar, four in a bookstore and one in a park. 

The two who disappeared from the cafes were found hanging in abandoned houses, the three from the bad were all found in various ditches, the bookstore four were found in a sewer, a crossroad, an abandoned warehouse and ironically, a graveyard; and the one missing from the park had been found on the beach. 

Maybe…

“Where is she in the library?”

He turned away and talked to his dad some more before cursing.

“She’s gone!” he hung up the phone.

“Fuck!”

Lenu rapidly slipped on their shoes.

“Len, what- are you going-” Dean’s voice seemed to be a little pitchy and stuttered- not that they ever had any room to talk ever. 

“Going to the library- FOIA!” They thundered down the steps about to enter the great (really fucking cold) outdoors when Dean fucking Winchester yanked them back.

“Lenu calm down!” he hissed, “What are you thinking? Some monster wants to kill you!”

“Better me than a kid!” They hissed back.

“You can’t leave me!” He ran his hands through his hair and looked at them like they were a puzzle. 

They elected to admire the lovely carpet instead. 

It was a nice blue that seemed to resemble the sky in Washington most of the year. 

“What are you thinking?”

They looked him in the eye- and wow, they were still green, like Draco Malfoy apple green- and explained as best they could.

“I’m gonna ask for the records of all the abandoned buildings, construction sites, and then boats that have not paid taxes in a while.”

He blinked, “Why?”

“Patterns. Either they’re gonna follow the previous patterns or go with something new, and there’s not a lot of options for what new looks like.”

He nodded and the pair was just about to leave when Lenu paused.

“I didn’t lock the room,” they ran back up stairs, locked it, checked it- checked it again because you can never be too sure- and ran back down, “Ready.”

Dean scoffed but let it pass. 

  
  
  


Being in an- actually it would be The, wouldn’t it?- Impala was wild. 

One, it was rather roomy.

Two, it was Dean Winchester’s.

Three, they were in the car with Dean Wincheser

Four-

Alright, maybe Lenu was just now processing the reality of being isekai’d to the Supernatural universe and meeting Dean FUCKING Winchester but they were the type to roll with the punches. 

The car was a perfect place to have a breakdown. 

“Do you not talk in the car?”

Or maybe it wasn’t.

“Uh, I do. Was just thinking.”

He hummed and parked the car.

“Is this weird for you?”

“What exactly?”

“Well, me. Frankly I think the bodies are pretty standard serial killer shit.”

He smirked and chuckled.

“Yeah princess, this is weird as hell. But I can’t say I’m complaining.”

They hummed and studied his face, deciding he seemed to be telling the truth, and looked outside noting all the people entering and exiting the library.

A blonde woman and a kid, an old lady and a-

That was the old lady from yesterday!

“Dean! That’s her! The old lady who looked at me like I was garbage!”

“I’m pretty sure you said scum of the earth.”

“Same fucking thing- what do we do?”

“ _We_ do nothing. My dad and I will handle this.”

“She knows-” at Dean’s look, they rolled their eyes, “Whoever is the serial killer knows I’m here, if they want me, they’ll get me and I, for one, would rather go after them than be vulnerable.”

He stared at them before goaning and pulling out his phone.

“Dad? Yeah, Lenu-” he paused, “Yes, sir.”

More chatter.

“You're taking off?”

Oh wow, nice.

“But-”

A beat.

“Yes sir.”

He hung up.

“Well, it’s just the two of us, sweetheart.”

They hummed and turned to look at him.

“So what’s the plan?”

He stared at them.

“We check out every possible location.”

And with that he whipped out of the parking lot.

  
  
  


It was about noon they both found the warehouse, noting that was set up for the same type of torture they had seen on several of the victums and headed back to the hotel to figure out the plan of attack. 

“So, when do we go?”

“Nighttime, better cover, less questions.”

“Alright…” Granted, that made sense. 

At least they thought so but they were also head empty, no thoughts.

“What are we bringing?” he asked, probably just thinking aloud but they weren’t one to let things slide.

“Well, I’m betting on deity, so I’d say stakes, you’re saying demon, so exorcism and holy water.”

He glared but they grinned.

“Let’s just go.”

Lenu noted that he did grab the stake.

  
  


They both made it into the warehouse and Lenu turned to Dean just before they entered but he spoke before they could.

“What’s the plan?”

“I thought-” they stopped, “How about we split up?”

He grinned and went around the back and they elected to crawl in through a window. Carefully of course. 

Smoothly.

Gracefully. 

Allright, they kind of fell, but they didn’t really make a noise so that was a win. 

They looked, as best they could, around the dark as fuck warehouse. 

  
  
  
  
  


They fast walked to the girl and untied her bounds, impressed with the knots and their own knot untying skills.

“Hey sweetheart, my name’s Lenu, I’m here to help you. Can you tell me your name?”

“Viola,” she mumbled, hiding her tear stained face in their neck.

“Viola? That’s a beautiful name. I know a story about a girl with that name.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah, and she married a king and lived pretty happily ever after.”

“Mama told me that too,” she mumbled, “I miss Mama.”

“I’m sure she misses you too, darling, now-”

“Oh if it isn’t Lenu Alvarez. The Great Mirror. An honor to meet you,” the being mockingly bowed. They seemed to be dressed in a toga the colour of dirt with dark hair that seemed to fall like curtains. 

Cool?

“Yeah, well, I’m not getting paid so I won’t lie. Who the fuck are you?” They quickly hid Viola behind, trying to hear where Dean and John were.

“Did you know that this is one of God with a capital G’s favoured universes? How does it feel to go from abandoned in the multiverse to being able to see His work?”

“Makes middle school a lot funnier.”

The being paused.

“What.”

“Ah, just stupid shit I’d say that make my life even more of a joke,” they shrugged, “But the big one seems to be you.”

“What.”

“Did I stutter? You’re a clown. I’d say get a life but-”

“Well I’ll be the one to inform you that the little brat behind you is Viola Ilena Diana Alverez.”

They flinched.

“Ah, so you put it together? Viola here is from a universe like yours but it got a little more attention.”

They blinked.

A little-

“And the other people?”

“All related to you, sure you could identify some but some maybe not. The timelines are uneven,” she shrugged. They felt that the being was a she. She had that catty preppy girl energy that grated their nerves. 

Fucking hell.

“Do I care enough to ask why?”

She laughed, “Because you’re a mirror.”

“And what exactly is that, pray tell?”

“You are an abandoned conduit for God!” She gestured dramatically, “Lost to the sands of time and web of lies.”

They scrunched their nose before pursing their lips and nodding. 

They did have a kind of a God complex but that was just par for the course as a writer.

“Have you ever played The Sims? I’m assuming not, because you’re lame, but that game is being God 101 and I chronically forget about my games.”

She blinked.

“Did you compare playing a game to being God?”

“See, that proves to me you’ve never played the Sims but it’s like being a literal god and boy it is fun to play god. My favorite memories are making a meth lab, a skate park on the roof of all the houses, a giant rubber ducky, and the dick pools.”

She stared.

“And anyway, I haven’t played in years but they’re obviously continuing and I’m just not watching because my hyperfocus changed.”

They shrugged. 

"Anyway, what I’m saying is: ya boring,” they shrugged, but internally patted themself on the back for channeling Jake Peralta, “But go off I guess. Whatever. I’ll make do.”

The being seemed to still be processing everything.

“I am Python.”

“Dope, I literally didn’t fucking ask.”

An awkward pause fell. 

“Sorry?” they shrugged, “But I gotta ask, what’s up with the killing people close to me.”

She smirked, probably eager to monologue. Fair enough. 

  
  


“I am a dragon of fame, you are a thorn in my side. It’s because your gods took over our land and now, I am just faded to the sands of time.”

They blinked.

“Um, have you considered therapy?”

They saw Dean move into position.

She scoffed,“I’ve killed your best friends, brothers and now… I’ll kill this little twerp.”

They felt Viola grip their coat tight. 

“And what about her adds her to the list?”

“Is it not obvious?” she smirked, “Her name is Viola Ilena Diana Alverez. Her mother’s name is Ilena Alverez. Sound familiar?”

She stalked closer and they pushed Viola behind themself.

“Vaguely, but in the same way I can recognise Uchiha Itachi.”

“What the fuck is wrong with you.”

“Why do you really want me to suffer? Be honest. I lived through four different apocalypses, really just lay it on me. Because I think it has nothing to do with God.”

They felt Viola sneak off, following Dean’s nonverbal directions- goddamn that kid deserved an ice cream after this was done- and Python stalked closer.

“Does the name Sauroktonos mean anything to you?”

“Uh, nope. Sounds Greek though.”

Python hissed and swiped a sword- a really pretty one too!- at them.

“You mock me!”  
  


“Uh, no. I mean, not on purpose but I am a Gemini so-”

Python lunged for their throat- which fair- and they quickly dived out of the way.

“You are a curse!”

“I like to think I’m a blessing, but maybe you’ve got a point-” The being transformed into a whole-ass fucking giant snake and lunged again.

“Your patron will have you wear the title Pythia because his temple stands on my ashes!”

Len crawled as fast as they could, dodging blow after blow and holy shit-

“Fuck!” Python bit their arm.

“You will die slowly, young hero, and then I will kill your daughter and your friend,” The dragon- Python was a fucking dragon, they were fighting a dragon- hissed as they- it?- leaned over them poised to strike when-

They spotted the bow and a single fucking golden arrrow, prayed and grinned. 

“No way in hell, you bitch.”

Lenu shot the arrow through her heart and watched as she dissolved into stardust with a harrowing scream.

Wow.

“Ugh, hope this shit isn’t like sand.”

Dean laughed from outside the warehouse. 

They smiled and covered their eyes with their arm, letting themself relax. 

  
  
  


Dean came in a little while later, nudging them carefully while carrying Viola in his arms. 

“I think that if I ever meet God, I’m going to punch him. Maybe just on principle.”

Dean held them up and ruffled their hair, which was annoying because it made their hair poof up and the stardust. 

“Congrats on your first hunt.”

“Thanks,” they smiled at Viola, “Hey sweetie, is what that lady said true? Is your name Viola,” they licked their lips, “Ilena Diana Alverez?”

She nodded and her black curls bounced. They were tighter than their own, but her eyes were similar enough. Brown that probably looked almost gold in the light. Her skin was a couple shades darker, more to their father’s colour than their own light olive. Her nose identical to their own and freckles on her face. 

A beautiful girl.

Shit.

“Is she really your’s?” Dean whispered into their ear.

“Not in my universe, but it seems like in another one, yes,” they whispered back before speaking up, “What’s your Mama’s name?”

“Ilena Ofelia Lissandra Alverez. Iola. Mama writes books but mama and papa are gone.”

They froze.

“What do you mean?” Dean asked the girl in his arms.

“Someone came in da house. They fell down and the person left. I saw the ocean.”

They exchanged looks with Dean.

_You can’t raise a kid._ Dean.

_But she’s mine._ Their eyes widened and their eyebrows raised.

_The hunting life isn’t good for a kid._ He looked from the kid to the car.

_And I won't be-_ their eyebrows knitted together. 

“What?” he set Viola down and dragged them out of hearing range.

“Am I supposed to not raise her?” they hissed.

“You’re nineteen in a completely different universe, what the fuck are you going to do?”

“I don’t know, something, Dean, she's my kid. She looks like me, like family and shit, I think she’s from a universe where I’m a girl. And well, if another me’s done the work to have the kid, I ain’t gonna turn down raising them.”

“What?”

“Well I want- wanted kids, but physically having them is scary and would probably make my dysphoria crazy but adopting is hard for a gay. She’s a gift, honestly.”

“You’re stuck in this life- that’s no way to raise a kid.”

“Honestly, Winchester, I’m gonna be fine. No parent is perfect but I had an awesome dad and I think I can emulate that. Also, if I had known how to kill monsters as a kid I would not have been afraid of the dark for as long as I was.”

He blinked.

And blinked again.

And burst into laughter.’

“You were afraid of the dark!”

“Shut up! I watched crime televison and ghost shows, how the fuck was I was supposed to feel?”

“...Mama?” The little girl called, looking like she was about to fall over.  
  
They both froze.

“Yes, Vio-darling?” Lenu Isidore Alverez choked out.

“I’m tired.”

“Alright, we’ll head to my room and then head home okay?”

She hummed and they looked to Dean who thankfully picked her up again and the trio made their way into the Impala, Len sitting in the front with Viola in their lap.

“Di’ja get a haircut mama? When you left da angels?”

They smiled, a little sadly, “I did. I think it’s still a bit long but I’ll get it cut later.”

And she smiled as she fell asleep in their

They would die for this child.

“Do you know anyone who you can go to?” Dean asked, apparently having figured out there was no way they were leaving this kid.

“Uh, Bobby Singer? I’d hate to live in South Dakota but if I’m gonna raise Vio-darling and help your sorry ass, I’m gonna need help.”

He nodded, but he seemed almost reluctant. 

“Thanks-” he tried to say but they interrupted him.

“We’re ride or die now, Winchester. Well, if you choose-”

Dean grabbed their hand and shook with a smile. 

“You’re stuck with me sweetheart.”

“Awesome,” they kissed his cheek and shook his hand, “Looking forward to suffering together.”

And with that the pair tore out of the warehouse parking lot, grins on both their faces. 

  
  
  



End file.
